


Recall

by ItsFreakinBats



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Other, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8527075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsFreakinBats/pseuds/ItsFreakinBats
Summary: Before the reinstatement of Overwatch, one of its members is captured and forced to talk. Where are the other members, how did Morrison and Reyes survive the blast, who has feelings for whom? It takes a lot to break a member of Overwatch, and this one comes close to spilling the beans. What will it take to make him talk?





	1. Chapter 1

 

     The Shimada brothers were never really known for their patience. One had a tendency to drop everything and run to the nearest woman, the other, willing to give in to his rage quickly and often. Even after all their training, they had a tendency to give in to their impatience. It was rumored that even Zenyatta grew exasperated with Genji from time to time. Now was one of those times that a Shimada brother grew impatient. With a low growl, he backhanded his prisoner. A spray of spit and blood flew from his mouth, and landed on the floor near Hanzo's feet. With a sneer he turned from the old man and waited for him to catch his breath before resuming his questioning. Reinhardt struggled to sit up straight. The blows that had been coming for hours now, were finally starting to wear on him. His vision was dark, his breath short and the muscles in his back had started to clench in a way he knew was trouble. "I will not ask you again, where is the location of Dr. Ziegler?" Hanzo was on the brink of a mental breakdown. He had received news that Angela may know something of resurrection, and since then could not help but think of his brother. If only he could find her location, he could persuade her to raise his brother. His brow furrowed as he thought of the guilt and shame he had brought to himself after a fit of rage. If he couldn't get it under control now, he would kill the old man before he got his answers. "I swear to you, if you answer this question, we will take a break. Give you a chance to recover." Although Hanzo didn't consider himself a "good guy", he did have standards when it came to anyone that his organization took. Hanzo stopped his pacing for a moment and waited for an answer. All he could hear was the old man wheezing, and he himself stopped breathing, thinking he had once again gone too far. 

 

     Reinhardt sat hunched over, staring at the slate gray floor splattered with his blood, saliva and a few of his teeth. His breath had started coming out in wheezing gasps, a rattle in his lungs that he knew needed attended to. He racked his brains, looking for an answer that he knew he didn't have. He and his companion, Brigitte had been protecting innocents across Europe, but he had yet to hear of any other Overwatch member being active. He knew it was his own fault, he shouldn't have been as reclusive as he was. "I - I do not know, Shimada. I have been alone for many years now. I do not have any current information to give you. Dr. Ziegler was in Antarctica, last I heard. To save the members of Overwatch that were caught in a storm. I do not know if she was successful, or if she herself perished." He stopped talking, short of breath. His breaths were coming in short gasps, dry spittle flying out his mouth. Hanzo knew the man was done. With a nod towards the door, two men entered to help the old man up and out of his chair, careful to keep him in his bonds despite the fact that he was probably too hurt to fight. You could never been too careful with an Overwatch agent. The two masked, unnamed agents led Reinhardt through a maze of halls, all nondescript and all unseen by the man. That didn't stop him from counting steps and memorizing turns that they were taking. With a smile he realized that over the past week, despite trying to confuse him, they had formed a routine in how they took him to and from the interrogation room. The men, as always, gently placed him on his bed and removed his bonds. Shortly thereafter, a doctor entered the room and started to tend to his wounds. She had kind eyes, and a gentle hand but Reinhardt refused to trust her. There were only two healers he trusted, and neither one of them had he heard from in years. Like routine, as soon as the doctor left, a large meal was brought in with a nutritional drink. Reinhardt knew that there were health enhancers in the drink to help him heal from his wounds. The drinks even regrew his teeth, something he knew he could thank Mercy for. He almost contemplated not drinking it, but knew it would just piss Shimada off. He had tested it his first day, and had almost died as a result. 

 

     The lights dimmed in his room, signalling that it was time for him to climb into bed. The air kicked on and quickly cooled the room, forcing him underneath the heavy blankets. He knew this was a tactic to tire him, and to keep him complacent. Really though, it didn't bother him. He was sleeping better than he had in years. It was the dreams that made him reluctant to sleep, but after the constant interrogation he was usually too tired to dream. He thought it would be the same tonight. He was wrong. 

 

****************************************

 

     It was her hair that had always caught his attention. Long, thick, shiny and so black it shone blue in the right light. She was as beautiful as she was deadly, and she was the love of his life. His hands caught her around his waist, and he picked her up despite her protests. He laughed as he held her close, loving the smell of her - coriander and cinnamon. It was a smell he knew would stay with him for the rest of his days. He threaded his fingers through her hair, and pulled her close. Their lips clashed together, her hands holding his face to hers. She had always played dirty when it came to him, biting his lips, scratching his shoulders, doing anything she could to rile him up. He loved the way her small body fit into his, how he felt he could protect her...With a jolt, Reinhardt woke, tears filling his eyes. He could take the "questioning", the torture, the anything. But when it came to Ana, he was a mess. He had heard the news that she had been killed by Widowmaker and Reaper in a hostage negotiation. He hadn't done anything for months after that, his young companion Brigitte at a loss as to how to help him. It was his inactivity that had gotten him caught. Before, he was moving place to place, undetectable, despite his large size. Settling had put him and his companion at risk. He breathed deep, imagining that he could smell Ana.  Shaking his head and wiping the tears from his eyes, he rolled over, hoping for a more peaceful sleep. He was going to need a full nights rest if he was going to survive the next day. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small look into McCree and Hanzo's relationship, inspired by another author on A03 :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, I'm playing this by ear. I hadn't planned on this having chapters, but I was too tired to continue writing last night. Thank you for your continued patience through my process! I would have updated this much sooner but I had to work Black Friday, so my apologies! 
> 
> As always, comments and critiques are always welcome!

 

   After everyone had left the room, Hanzo collapsed into the once occupied room.  He surveyed the room and the floor around him. It was dark and cold in here, as all their interrogation rooms were. The streaks of blood and dried sweat dotting the floor however, didn't adorn the other rooms at this moment. That small thought sent the mans thoughts reeling. He _wasn't_ this man. _No_ \- this was his _father_. It wasn't him. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he quickly pressed the heel of his palm into his eyes to stop the flood that was threatening its way out. Ever since Genji his honor hadn't been the same..

     He stood swiftly, the chair he was just sitting on skittering behind him before falling. He left the room, nodding to the guard outside that he was done. The room would be sterilized in a matter of hours, long before morning. Hanzo walked quickly down the hallways to his room, curtly nodding at anyone who crossed his path. If he stopped to talk to anyone, all of his self control would shatter, and he would break then and there. Once he reached his room, he slammed the door closed. With a roar, Hanzo started to smash anything in sight. An amused figure sat on the bed, following Hanzo's every move. A chuckle caught Hanzo's attention, and looking to the bed, his face flooded with color. A sob escaped his throat, before he collapsed to the edge of the bed. 

"You okay there darlin?" 

Tears streaming down his face, Hanzo shook his head. He clutched his head with his hands still shaking his head. Concerned now, Jesse scooted closer to the sobbing man, unsure of where to put his hands. He settled on Hanzo's wrists, trying to pull them away from his face. When this failed to work, Jesse wove his fingers through Hanzo's, and waited for the sobs to subside. As the tears started rolling down McCree's arms a little slower, and the hiccups started to subside, Jess slowly lowered his hands bringing Hanzo's with them. Hanzo's eyes were cast downward, tears still falling from them. Jesse took Hanzo's chin in his hand and forced him to look up, and into his eyes. Bronze clashed with ebony, both endless depths flecked with green, gold and sapphire. Hanzo tore eyes away from Jesse. 

"What do you see in me Jesse? What could you possibly see, after I've done the things that I have to these people?"

Without any hesitation, Jesse jerked Hanzo's face back to his own, his heated gaze capturing Hanzo's own.

"The others, they choose what they see. The destruction and chaos that follows in your wake. But I choose to see the beauty and grace you bring, and the compassion and love you refuse to show." 

With those words, Jesse leaned forward and planted a small kiss on Hanzo's lips. With a grimace he pulled back. 

"Darlin, you been worryin at yer lips again." 

The hand that was once on Hanzo's chin made its way up to his lips, and a finger gently pulled his lower lip down. True to his words, Hanzo had bloodied the inside of his lip, a bad habit formed throughout his early years, and not yet broken. Jesse took the finger holding Hanzo's lip and slowly wiped the blood welling up once again. Hanzo groaned, eliciting a smile from Jesse. Without any thought, the tanned man had made his way on top of Hanzo, sitting on his lap the way that couples do. Both of the men could feel Hanzo getting hard. 

"Now now darlin, its not the time fer that. Time for you to get in the shower and clean yerself up. Yer redder than a tanned hide." 

At that, Hanzo's head shot up, and impossibly, his face got redder. He scowled and stood, discarding the cowboy. Jesse laughed as Hanzo continued to get heated, now for entirely different reasons. He laid on his back, knees up and spread apart. He abruptly stopped laughing when a hand grabbed his crotch, and he looked into the face of an angry dragon. His smile tapered as he looked at Hanzo's darkened eyes.

"You will not be laughing when it is your hide that will be tanned."

With that, Hanzo turned, and disrobed his shirt. He normally wore his kyudo-gi and hakama, but didn't want to bother getting them dry cleaned after the mess he knew he was sure to make. He instead had worn a black turtleneck and black cargo pants. Easier to hide the blood. He threw the shirt to the ground, and heard a sharp intake of breath. With a smile, he started to undue his pants, and let them fall to the ground. Despite all the muscle his body held, his waist was still slim and almost everything fell from it. Another sharp intake of breath. He hadn't worn anything underneath today. 

Turning to face McCree, he beckoned for him to follow to the bathroom. He didn't wait to see if Jesse would follow. As his guard, Jesse _should_ follow him everywhere. 

His bare feet slapped the bathroom floor, barely covering the sound of clothes hitting the floor in the next room. He smiled as he turned the hot water on. The sound of another pair of bare feet slapping the floor behind him made him smile harder. Hanzo stood outside the shower letting it warm, when he could feel hands in his hair. He let his head drop back, and Jesse pulled his hair from its constraints. McCree slid his hand through the peppered hair enjoying the moan that came along with it. Jesse's hand trailed from Hanzo's hair to his spine. The light touch from Jesse's rough fingers brought a shiver of pleasure from Hanzo. 

Hanzo spun, and pulled Jesse to him. Grabbing him by the back of the neck, he pulled the cowboy forward into a rough kiss. Hanzo's own hands trailed from Jesse's neck, down his shoulders, to his arms - where he stopped short. Looking down, he could see that Jesse had removed his left arm. Raising an eyebrow, he just looked at a bashful McCree. 

"Aw, I forgot to waterproof it this week. Didn't want it gettin stiff after gettin it wet."

He blushed and placed his good hand behind his head. Standing on his tiptoes, Hanzo stepped up to place a chaste kiss on the cowboys lips. Stepping backwards into the hot spray, he pulled Jesse in after him. The hot water cascaded over the men, and for the moment, they concentrated on lathering up. They had initially faced away from each other, out of embarrassment. Despite knowing their feelings for each other, they had done nothing more than kiss and rub up on the other in bed. 

Biting his lip once more, Hanzo turned, bold. The sight that greeted him brought bright laughter to his lips. Jesse scowled, trying to wipe soap from his face and eyes, but unsuccessful. Hanzo reached up to wipe shampoo from Jesse's eyes, his fingers gentle. 

"Would you like some help?" 

A few moments passed before Jesse replied with a curt nod. Hanzo guided McCree under the spray of hot water, and worked the suds from his hair. He paused intermittently to wipe the soap from Jesse's face and pepper him with kisses. He giggled Jesse out of his initial annoyance, and into his heart. 

Jesse smiled warmly at Hanzo. This stoic man, who held his late fathers entire empire on his shoulders, was actually _giggling_. He had Jesse completely entranced. And to top it all off, he hadn't flinched at his arm, like so many others. Truth of it was, he _had_ waterproofed it, he always did. This was more of a..test, so to speak. Hanzo had passed it with flying colors. Absent minded, he hadn't noticed that Hanzo was done with his hair, and had moved on to other parts of his body. He had lathered soap all over his body, and was at that moment, caressing Jesse's well muscled arms. 

He hissed as Hanzo's fingers brushed over his stump. All thoughts flew from his head, and he turned from Hanzo embarrassed. Strong hands turned him back around, and all he could see ebony eyes blazing back up at him. 

"Do you not see it does not matter to me? A man without honor and a man without his arm. We belong together." 

Anger rose in McCree's chest, and without a word he left the shower. Dripping, he collected his clothing from the floor and started to dress. No matter that his clothes would be sopping wet. He could come up with an excuse. He used to be an excellent liar. 

"Jesse, wait!" 

He stiffened, but didn't turn. With one last adjustment, he latched his arm back on and stormed off towards the door. He spoke before he left. 

"Master Shimada, you have more honor than you think. And I am more than a man without an arm. Best you remember that." 

And with that he left, leaving a cold and distraught Hanzo standing naked in the doorway of his bathroom. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reinhardt is escorted to a new room, and Jesse tries to break him down.

     Reinhardt was not a man who was patient. He had been laying in his bed for three days, and so far, the only interruption he had had was when a guard brought him a meal. Several times a day, all at different intervals. Sometimes it would be every four hours, sometimes it would be every eight. It was hard to pinpoint the exact schedule when there was none. He sighed. He should have expected that Shimada was too smart to let there be an exact schedule, or to let on any information outside this room. The guards said nothing, there was no window to look out of, no natural sunlight, nothing to indicate _anything_. He had thought the torture was bad before, but honestly, this was even worse. Reinhardt wondered if this was a new ploy to get him to talk. He worried, because it might actually work. 

     His chest constricted, and he tried to breath normally. The room they had put him in was small and dark. It held only his bed, and a wall that closed the toilet and sink off from everyone being able to peer in at him. At least he had _some_ privacy. The ceiling and the walls had no seams, and the door had a small slot that was (a normal person's) eye height for someone to peek in every now and then. Even that happened at random intervals, and he couldn't count the amount of times he had been woken by the closing of that little slot. All in all, even though he had been given rest for so many days, he was uncomfortable. He preferred the torture. At least there was human interaction. 

     A small noise distracted him from his thoughts, and he looked towards the door. It had been a key entering a lock that had grabbed his attention. That meant they had finally come to get him. With a sigh, he stood and stretched. Although the room was tall, his 7 foot frame barely fit. As he stretched, he had to bend his arms to fully stretch his back. He had just started to lower his arms when the door opened, revealing a group of guards. They were dressed...well like how you would imagine a ninja to dress. All black from head to toes, face covered. They motioned for him to leave the room, and he rethought his earlier thought. Maybe torture wasn't preferable. 

     They led him through a series of halls, all a maze to him, an exit nowhere in sight. Reinhardt couldn't even see any windows. He could tell that the hallways were getting brighter though, and, looking up, discovered why there were no windows. There were no windows if you had skylights all over the place. He estimated they had walked for at least twenty minutes, much further than the "interrogation room" they normally took him to. With a frown, he wondered where they were going, before they stopped before a door. A door that looked like every other door in the place. He waited for the guard to open it, looking to his left and right, seeing if he could see anything. But nada. Nothing. Every door, hallway, ceiling and floor were exactly the same. His heart sank at the prospect of never being able to escape. 

     The door opened and Reinhardt had to squint his eyes to look inside. It was a large room with a window that spanned the length of the entire room. His brows furrowed as he turned to look at the guards. The tallest one swept his arm towards the room, as if a man would to escort his date inside. Confused, he allowed himself to be ushered inside. The guard that had indicated for him to enter the room followed after him and closed the door after him, allowing himself to be locked inside. Reinhardt turned to look around. 

     A large bed, something that would allow him to lay comfortably, took up most of the space. On it was a plush comforter and plenty of pillows. An alarm clock and plant was on the bedside table next to it. There was also a dresser, and looking inside, clothing. He hummed to himself, wondering. He located a bookcase, and even a full bathroom with a shower along with a toilet and sink. Along the window (no doubt bullet and Reinhardt proof) was a table with a few chairs. He turned to face the guard, who to his shock, had taken a chair and placed it next to the door and had sat. He had taken his head covering off, revealing shaggy brown hair and an unruly beard. 

"Well howdy there pardner, nice to finally speak to ya. My name is McCree, I'll be watching you from here on out." 

     With a smile he thrust his hand out towards the large man, who just continued to stare. Clearing his throat, embarrassed, McCree withdrew his hand and sat back in his chair. 

"Anyways, uh, welcome to yer new room. I guess you better get comfortable, you might be here for awhile. The master of the house, so to speak, is away right now. You won't be seein' him for awhile."

     Reinhardt narrowed his eyes at the man, distrust evident in his gaze. He lumbered over to the window and looked out. It was a beautiful view, by all accounts. A forest towered above him, sunlight filtered through to the forest floor, leaving it a dappled mess of greens and browns. The only thing that marred the view was knowing that he was a prisoner. With a sigh, he turned and looked at his new "guard". He knew that he could pick up this man easily and crush him, but why would he risk coming in here alone? McCree guessed his thoughts. 

"I wouldn't try anything," he said with a grim smile "I'm much faster and stronger than I look." 

     Upon closer inspection, Reinhardt could see sharp teeth in Jesse's mouth. If he had to guess..nah. Those were a myth anyways. With a huff, Reinhardt sat heavily on the bed. To his surprise, it was soft but firm. He was instantly reminded of all the nights he had been woken by onlookers, and his shoulders slumped, weary. McCree laughed. 

"Go ahead and sleep pardner, I gather you haven't gotten much lately. If you need anything I'll be right here." 

     Laying back, Reinhardt didn't think he could sleep. But he thought of Ana, and the way her hair used to cascade over her face, a whisper of a giggle working its way into his ear. He shut his eyes and thought of the way she would trail her small fingers over his spine to help him sleep. 

And just like that he was out, snoring. 

 

     With a smile, McCree sat up, and pulled what blanket he could over the man. He pulled out a small phone and text Hanzo. 

"He's out. Lets let him get comfy before we question him anymore, he's had a hard time."

     He didn't wait for a reply before he put it away. He knew Hanzo would approve. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How tall is Reinhardt really? I'm kind of curious. 
> 
> If you couldn't tell already, I'm alternating chapters between the two men at first (Reinhardt and Hanzo), and I'll slowly be adding other characters in! I'll also be hinting at some things that happen in other fics, haha. 
> 
> As always, any comments and critiques are appreciated! Let me know how I'm doing!

**Author's Note:**

> I plan on writing numerous chapters to this work. I was inspired at work and the thought hasn't yet left me - its begging to come out. As always, any critiques/corrections are always welcome!


End file.
